“Surrender to the Rain of Arrows” and Dance, Wild Baby, Dance

Music travels through blood and flesh and bone at the speed of thought… The right note is living breath on wanting skin… liquid kisses making it all better… wild song chanted in healing’s native tongue.

Yesterday, I danced my howling pain into fuel. Then I wrote and wrote and wrote… fingertips drumming keyboard, until the click-click-click shaped itself into a story. I won’t try to fool you (and never me), my body still hurt like the dickens afire. But it did so with a euphoric (and, mayhap, mildly psychotic) grin.

When the pain got really nasty, and the throbbing became more than distracting, I reread Paul’s Break Me Open, stretched my back and shoulders and hips and legs… while “surrender[ing] to the rain of arrows”:

we are fragile things in all ways
and that is our gift if we will accept it
that allowing of the broken
that surrender to the rain of arrows
bones and blood
breath and skin
that golden repair
~ Paul Scribbles

…and got back to writing.

Pain is the most jealous of bastard gods. So, of course, it soon sank its claws under my ribs again and demanded to be worshiped. I flipped him off, called him several creative names, told him I kneel to no one, and I danced Safia’s “Embracing Me”:

The original song is delicious. But this remix is made of the liquid kisses I mentioned. As my sexy hips rolled to the beat, I let the melody and the lyrics and the mood… coat me, soak me, remind me of who I am… of all the wondrous things my slightly broken flesh and bones have done… of what they can do if I must, if I push myself to want, to will, to take… And I took the pain, and fed its screams into a poem.

As you might suspect, there were other retaliations. When pain hit again, I spent some time with my plants, invited their natural yumminess to help me rebloom…

summer blooms passion
flowers that brighten the dark
while spreading sweetness

There you have it, bastard pain. You will never have me. Not while I have words and music and flowers and dirt and wants. Not while I remember to embrace me and love me more than anyone can know. You’ll never have me while I have my Self. And I do.

What about you, my Wicked Luvs, how did your week start?

– Linking to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.

51 thoughts on ““Surrender to the Rain of Arrows” and Dance, Wild Baby, Dance

  1. So pleased that you’re able to channel your pain, Magaly, and I love the way you expressed it: ‘Yesterday, I danced my howling pain into fuel’. I also like how you link your ‘fingertips drumming keyboard’ with Paul Scribbles, our resident drummer, and his poem. And wonderful to see your lovely smile ‘spreading sweetness’. Have a great rest of the week!

  2. This is a wonderful sharing of words, ideas and experience, Magaly. As always, I am in awe of the way you turn pain into a creative force. Also what I really like about your post is how you have drawn strength from Paul’s poem, which he may not have written if not for your prompt. This synchronicity is an amazing thing, a web between consciousnesses, a means by which we grow on the inside.

    • What you said about Paul’s poem and my prompt and how this post came about is what I love most about being part of Garden, Kerry. I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds solace, inspiration and all kinds of wonderful energy in the words of other Toads. It’s a good place to be, to feed from, to share what we can five, to “grow” into more…

  3. Love your prose, and I can almost feel like your pain is your muse…. what a sweet revenge to write about it with such beauty.

  4. You are my beautiful inspiration and my hero! Reading this fills me with so much that is good, and encouraging, and energizing and rousing! It makes me want to dance away my pain too! Your words, your poetry, your images ~ they are better medicine than anything a doctor could prescribe. They fill me with healing, loving light. ✨💖✨
    I thank you my dearest, talented, wonderful friend.
    From my heart, I thank you. ❤️🌹❤️

    • This wonderful feeling is a circular blessing that feeds us both, my dearest Nina. Knowing how you feel about what you are reading inspires me to work harder at it. So, keep it coming, my dear one… and so will I!

      Many hugs and three kisses. 🙂

  5. You go, girl!❤️ I think its great that you refused to bow down to your pain and spent your time writing, dancing and gardening 😀 especially love; “I danced my howling pain into fuel. Then I wrote and wrote and wrote… fingertips drumming keyboard, until the click-click-click shaped itself into a story.”❤️

  6. My week almost always starts with music. Not for physical pain. Almost always for avoidable psychic pain. But it’s the same idea. If I can disappear down themusical rabbit hole for a few hours – as described vividly here – I can usually get by.

  7. Such abandon and pride in “wild song chanted in healing’s native tongue.” The selfie with demon pain is an extraordinary tao to button the post.

  8. Love this, Magaly, inspiring!! I am going to go into my day shaking my sexy hips and giving pain and other maladies the side-eye. 🙂 Just wonderful. How can you even grow something so exotic as that flower? It seems impossible.

  9. Music has always been medicine for me, too. I read your words, I see your strong will to not bow down to tyrant pain, to transmute those sensations into art. You embody the spirit of Frida while being wholly Magaly! You are such an inspiration!

  10. The music is awesome. The liquid kisses sound like raindrops and I can picture you dancing your demon away in the rain. Keep dancing and writing!

  11. “There you have it, bastard pain. You will never have me. Not while I have words and music and flowers and dirt and wants. Not while I remember to embrace me and love me more than anyone can know. You’ll never have me while I have my Self. And I do.”
    Keep being you and keep on dancing!! Your soul knows it is loved!! Shine bright! Your brightness helps so many!
    Love you!!!
    Big Hugs 🙂

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